


Put It In Perspective

by miss_slothrop



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Ignis Scientia, F/M, HighSpecs, Post-Episode Ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_slothrop/pseuds/miss_slothrop
Summary: Some time after the light of the sun begins to wane over Eos, Aranea runs into the three royal retainers again only to learn that something has changed for the worse in Ignis.  Determined to set it right, she accepts his invitation to spar with him in the hopes that he will listen to her if she indulges him.





	Put It In Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> A story that takes place in the original FFXV timeline (as opposed to the branch of fate that Ep Ignis offers). I originally wrote this soon after the episode came out, but due to various circumstances it went unpublished for a very long time.

“Are you serious?” Aranea put a hand on her hip, shifting her weight to one foot. “It’s been _hours._ At the very least he should’ve run out of exercises to do by now.”

Prompto shrugged his shoulders. “He just starts the routine over from the beginning.” He was sitting in a weak-looking plastic chair, hands folded behind his neck as he leaned back into it with one ankle resting up against the opposite knee. It had been close to two months since Gralea and Zegnautus Keep. Aranea had managed to meet up with the three royal retainers in their escape from the ruined city and ultimately it had been her who ferried them back to Lucis in her red ship. Now they found themselves traveling from outpost to outpost as the darkness moved in on the world, bastions of humanity falling to the daemons one by one. Aranea herself had made several trips back and forth between Niflheim and Lucis, bringing any survivors she could find with her, and by chance she had chosen to park her ship at the same rest area that the other three had settled in for now. At first this had been a pleasant surprise, but the revelation she was receiving now had just taken a big dump all over that.

“At this rate he’s gonna break himself before the daemons ever get the chance,” she said. “You’d think he’d realize that.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” said Prompto, looking up at the dusky sky, “but Iggy’s changed a lot since Noct’s been gone.” He turned his head to one side and narrowed his eyes at the big empty garage up the road that the hunters at this rest stop used for training. “Pretty sure he sleeps in that place sometimes. Most of the hunters stay away from him.”

Aranea huffed and crossed her arms, joining Prompto in staring at the building. “And he blows you guys off when you tell him to cool it?”

“Yep,” said Prompto with no mirth in his voice. “Every single time.” He unfolded his hands and sat up in the chair with a stretch and a loud yawn that he didn’t even bother to cover his mouth for. “I think I’m gonna grab something to eat and get some sleep. Sun’s going down soon.” He stood up and leaned backward to stretch his legs. “You wanna try breaking down Iggy’s wall, go for it. Don’t say nobody warned you, though.”

“Thanks, Shortcake,” said Aranea, smiling wryly, “but I can handle myself.”

“I know,” said Prompto, managing to smile at long last. “Honestly, I’m rooting for you. He could really use some of that signature Aranea charisma right about now.”

“Oh?” Aranea smirked at him. “And what does that mean?”

Prompto slouched and gave her a sheepish grin. “Get right up in his face and don’t hold anything back?” Aranea laughed, giving the boy a firm pat on the shoulder as she walked past him toward her ship. She wasn’t dressed for training and needed to fix that before she took on the all-important task put before her.

* * *

The prince and his retinue all had something or another about them that amused Aranea in each of their meetings, but there was something different about Ignis, the erudite strategist, that had held her attention more than the others. In the Imperial military she’d met hundreds of types like him, or at least it seemed so on the surface. They had all spoken of devotion to the Empire with a similar tone, but one brief glance into their eyes had told Aranea that everything they said was hollow, tinged with the truth of their own quests for greater and greater power. Ignis, by sharp contrast, meant every word he said and imbued those words with a sense of humor that never failed to get Aranea to smile, which had surprised her the first few times. He couldn’t be much older than the others, but he talked and moved with a poise and composure that exceeded his years by far. It had been hard to take her eyes off him in a fight as he performed amazing acrobatic maneuvers, practically dancing around the enemy as he exploited every opening and weakness he could spot. Even after whatever disaster had befallen him to take his sight, Ignis was still clearly a formidable opponent. Aranea could only hope that his other intriguing qualities would survive the change as resiliently.

She emerged from her ship dressed in what could pass for workout attire and headed for the garage-turned-gym in the waning light. Right before she reached the door it burst open from the inside, a fuming Gladiolus barging out in front of her. From somewhere behind him she could hear Ignis’s voice, though she had no idea what he’d shouted. Whatever it was, Gladio had understood it and wheeled around to shout back in through the open door.

“Fine! Fuck you, too, Iggy!” He growled through his gritted teeth as he turned to leave again, stopping himself abruptly as he spotted Aranea. “Hey, I wouldn’t go in there right now if I were you.”

“What?” Aranea gave him a lopsided smile and put her hands on her hips. “I’m not half as delicate as I look, you know.”

Gladio chuckled. “Not what I meant. It’s just hard to get any training done when Iggy’s like this.”

Aranea sighed through her nose. “From what Prompto told me, he’s like this all the time these days.”

“Yeah,” said Gladio, “and it’s a godsdamn pain in the ass.”

“Well if you can believe it,” said Aranea, taking a couple steps toward the garage, “that’s exactly why I’m here.”

“Is that so?” Gladio gave the door behind him a withering stare. “Good luck with that. I’ve tried everything I can think of and he ain’t listening.”

Aranea shrugged. “Maybe it takes a woman’s touch.”

Gladio’s laughter rumbled in his chest again. “Gonna slap some sense into him? I’d love to see that. Don’t think I can go back in there, though. Not yet.” He took a few steps backwards toward the motel the hunters had occupied. “I could use a breather.”

“I’ll give you a recap later,” said Aranea. “Hopefully it’ll be short and sweet.” Gladio only laughed again and shook his head before walking away. Clearly she had her work cut out for her inside. Taking one more moment to breathe and stretch her arms over her head, she dared to step through the door and close it behind her.

The inside of the garage was dark, the only illumination provided by weak hanging lights and dying sunbeams falling in through small windows high above the ground. A few hunters were grouped together in one corner, talking amongst themselves in low voices. Every so often one would chance a look across the room and another would scold them for it, perhaps unsure of whether or not they could be seen.

Far on the other side of the garage was Ignis, absorbed in his exercises, and Aranea started toward him with determination. He was running through a series of postures and maneuvers with a wooden practice staff, his grunts of effort echoing off the metal walls. He’d been at this so long that his hair had utterly fallen down into his face, not that it mattered anymore whether or not it flopped into his eyes. He’d removed his button-down shirt to set it aside somewhere and with him clad in his sleeveless undershirt it was easy for Aranea to spot the layer of shining sweat that covered his bare arms. If it weren’t for the fatigue that he was so obviously fighting off, she might have wanted to just watch Ignis work out forever.

“Who’s there?” Ignis paused in his routine to turn toward the sound of Aranea’s footsteps, resting his hands on one end of the staff as he rested the other on the floor.

“Me,” said Aranea, picking up her pace. “It’s been a while.”

“Has it?” said Ignis. Aranea was close enough now to see that he’d also taken off his sunglasses, fully exposing his scars. His hair covered up his right side, but the left was easily visible and the look of it brought an uncomfortable sensation to her own face.

“A couple months,” said Aranea, stopping just a few feet away. “At least I think so. We’re seeing less sunlight every day.”

“I’m afraid I hadn’t noticed,” said Ignis with a hint of his former humor, getting Aranea to perk up just the littlest bit. “I’m very busy these days.”

“So I hear,” said Aranea. “Training. Lots of it. What for?”

Ignis stood up to his full height, lifting his staff off the ground in both hands. “I am training in preparation for the king’s return. I would advise you to do the same. If what you say about the sun is true, then we would all benefit from getting a head start.” His brow furrowed and he turned to the side, assuming a fighting stance again. “Otherwise I must ask you not to bother me for any reason. My regimen requires absolute focus and I cannot allow anything trivial to break my concentration.” He raised the staff and went back into his exercises as if nothing had happened and Aranea shook her head at him. He paused once more between maneuvers, not even looking in her direction when he clearly knew to avoid swinging the staff there. “Well?”

“I’ve got time to go a round or two,” said Aranea. “Nothing else better to do besides hunt daemons and I doubt any of them’ll be anywhere near as charming a sparring partner as you.” Ignis showed no sign of a reaction to her remark and Aranea felt her spirits sink. In the past he might have smiled wryly or delivered a perfectly-timed comeback, like he had in the ruins at Steyliff Grove when they’d bounced banter off each other until their mission there was accomplished.

“Good,” was all he said this time. “Tell me when you’re ready.” Pursing her lips, Aranea crossed to the side of the room where the training equipment was stored and picked up a wooden staff of her own. She walked back to Ignis with the steadiness and laser focus that she usually reserved for big monsters that needed to be beaten. Stopping some ways away from him, she waited until his moves brought him back toward her so she could throw up her staff and block his on its way down.

“How’s this for ready?”

“You could simply have said so,” said Ignis, standing up straight again.

“Would a daemon?” asked Aranea.

“I suppose not,” said Ignis. “When I train alone I focus on extending my endurance and regaining my form, but now I can practice tracking my target.”

“Is that all I am?” Aranea drawled. “I’d thought by now you’d at least think- _shit!_ ” Ignis had rushed her in the middle of her sentence and it was all she could do to block his strike before it hit her square in the face.

“It would do you well to conserve your energy,” said Ignis, not a single hint of anything but strict business in his voice. “The more you run your mouth, the easier you are for me to hit.” He withdrew and Aranea grit her teeth, biting back another curse. And here she thought Prompto might have been exaggerating when clearly he’d understated it. Whoever Ignis was now, the man she remembered seemed to have disappeared behind a thick veil of whatever this was.

When Aranea did speak again, it was with quiet resolve. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She relaxed her posture before assuming a new fighting stance, watching Ignis intently. He remained still for longer than she expected, but she didn’t drop her guard. When he finally did move to attack, Aranea was ready and again blocked him perfectly. He struck again and again, but she evaded him with just as much precision and at long last she spotted an opening. Right as Ignis wound up for another attack she thrust her staff forward like the lance she was most practiced in fighting with, jabbing him in the shoulder. Ignis cried out and stumbled backward, taking a hand off his staff to cover the spot she’d hit.

“That was a very cheap shot,” he said, breathing hard.

“Daemons take cheap shots,” said Aranea with a shrug. “If that’s what you want to prepare yourself to fight, that’s what you’ll need to expect. You should know that by now.” Ignis made a sound in his chest that seemed almost animalistic, his entire body heaving up and down with his deep breaths. In an instant he was launching another attack and Aranea raised her staff to meet his, the impact echoing off the metal walls of the garage. “Mind telling me what’s gotten into you?” Aranea asked as she blocked more of Ignis’s moves and parried others, which only seemed to add to his frustration and increase the zeal with which he struck at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, half through clenched teeth. He let loose with another series of blows, Aranea deflecting them all. His fatigue was showing in a big way.

“Oh come on,” Aranea countered, launching a strike of her own that Ignis managed to block. “What was that bullshit you said just now?” She took on a mocking tone, speaking through her nose. “‘Don’t run your moooouth.’ That’s rich coming from you.” Ignis swung at her from the side with a shout and Aranea twisted out of the way, taking two steps back.

“Gladio and Prompto say the same thing,” said Ignis, standing still for the time being.

“Well,” said Aranea, “maybe they’re onto something.” She rushed him with another jab, but this time he stepped aside at just the proper moment to put air where his body had been and knock her off balance when the blow didn’t connect. Aranea felt herself falling and planted her toes to recover, but not before Ignis delivered a punishing blow to her back that knocked her to the floor. She hit the polished cement with a cry, was still for a split second and then scrambled back to her feet, staff still in hand. “Nice shot. So much for chivalry.”

“Thank you,” said Ignis, speaking over his shoulder with his back to her. “And as much as most codes of chivalry command that one not deign to hit a woman, I find that the real world requires more nuance.”

Aranea smiled. “There’s the Ignis I remember.” She dashed at him again while his back was still turned, but he wheeled around quickly and caught her strike with his own staff. “Ooh, you’re already pretty good at this.”

“The product of so much time spent in my training,” said Ignis, giving his staff a twirl in his hands. “I’ve tried to convince the others of its importance, but _they_ seem content to waste what time they have.”

“Is that how you see it?” asked Aranea. Ignis huffed and turned his head away from her. It was a few seconds before Aranea understood his reaction. “Oh, right. I should be more careful with my- Hey!” Again Ignis had struck at her while her guard was lowered, but again she was able to block him in time. He kept the pressure against her staff, leaning his full weight into it and bringing his face up close to hers.

“No more distractions,” he stated as calmly as if he weren’t exerting himself like he was. “Either you take this seriously or you leave me be.” Aranea made a snarling face at him, but made no noise as she pushed him back.

“This again?” she asked, her voice flat. “Please.”

Ignis spoke lowly through his teeth. “You are trying my patience, Aranea. You’re even worse than Gladio.”

“Good!” Aranea shouted, pointing her staff at Ignis. “Because what I think you could use right now is a good, hard kick in the teeth!” Ignis moved at lightning speed and Aranea barely had time to react as he charged her with his staff held up over his head. He leaped up a few feet and brought it down like a javelin with an inarticulate cry, but Aranea had already stepped out of the way, the wood smacking the garage floor with a resounding clack. In a flash Aranea was behind him, giving him a push in the backside with her foot that bowled him over forward. Ignis rolled himself upright and rushed Aranea again, his staff connecting with hers. Back and forth they traded high-speed blows, the noise of their weapons crashing and cries of effort filling the room with their echoes. Aranea ducked and dodged Ignis’s frenzied assault, sneaking in a counterattack here and there that sent him reeling for only the briefest of moments before he came back at her with a building vengeance. She had to admit, he was doing a spectacular job of filtering out the excess noise and coming straight for her, but right now she was in no position to appreciate it.

“Tell me something!” Ignis demanded, jabbing at the space that Aranea had occupied only an instant earlier. “Why do you not simply leave me alone to my training? It’s of no consequence to you.”

“Well your _training,_ ” Aranea huffed as she blocked his next attack, “is all you ever do anymore! When do you rest? When do you recover?”

“The longer I spend in training,” said Ignis, pulling back as Aranea began to advance, “the greater endurance I will have when Noct returns to us. I will be ready for anything!” He landed an especially harsh hit to Aranea’s hip and she flinched, just barely dodging his next strike. “Despite my condition!”

“Is that what this is about?!” Aranea used the inertia from blocking another attack to push Ignis back hard enough to make him stumble into a wall. “Can’t you feel the toll this bullshit is taking on you?! At this rate you’ll wear yourself out so much you won’t even make it to that day!” Ignis took a moment to reorient himself, unsteady on his feet, and Aranea let herself relax just a little.

Ignis was out of breath, his words coming out in spurts. “I…have…a duty to uphold. I swore…an oath. The others…are members…of the Crownsguard…and thus…their unwillingness…to train as I do…baffles me.” He took a second to slow his breathing, rising to his full height again. “But I suppose I shouldn’t expect _you_ to understand. When have _you_ ever kept an oath of loyalty?”

A chill ran through Aranea, her hands gripping her staff until her knuckles went white. “You take that back!” She practically flew at Ignis, pinning him to the wall before he could move away. “You don’t think I care?! If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be across the Cygillan clawing your way out of Gralea!”

“Whether or not you ‘care’ is irrelevant,” Ignis spat, his breath buffeting Aranea’s face. “Tell me, _Aranea,_ what would you be willing to sacrifice to protect those you care about? Answer me that!”

“What’s it to you?” Aranea stretched to put her face closer to his. “Is that what this is? Sacrifice?”

“Endless, if need be.” Ignis was pushing back against her staff with building strength. Aranea had to dig her feet in to keep him pinned, but she was starting to slip backward and she had a strong suspicion that Ignis could feel that, too. “That is the power of my oath to the Crown of Lucis.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Aranea pushed with all she had. “You’ve lost your mind! You make it sound like there’s nothing you wouldn’t do. That can’t be true!”

“Look at my face,” said Ignis, a growl in his voice. “That should give you a _very_ good idea of what I’m willing to do to serve and protect my king.” He moved his head to give Aranea a good look at him and her eyes pored over his scars. His right eye, the only one still visible, was nearly whited out by the damage, but Aranea could still see an amazing fire of conviction burning in it.

“Ignis,” she breathed. “What did you _do?_ ” Her preoccupation with Ignis’s face weakened her hold on him and he used that opportunity to shove her away, sending her over onto her back with a shout. Stunned from the fall, Aranea spotted Ignis’s incoming foot hurtling toward her face just in time to evade it, rolling to the side and onto her hands and knees. “Shit!”

“If you must have the answer to that,” said Ignis, speaking so matter-of-factly that it chilled Aranea to her core, “I found myself in a situation where my only acceptable course of action was to put on the Ring of the Lucii.” Aranea gasped, then bolted away as Ignis ran at her. Again his attack missed.

“You’re insane,” she rasped, now out of breath herself. “The stories about that thing-…”

“Are entirely true,” Ignis finished. “I consider myself lucky to have survived that act.” He loosed an inarticulate roar as he attacked again, Aranea rising to meet him and slamming their staffs together again. “That said, in the moment I never expected to. I knew what the Ring could do to one who the souls of the kings past deem unworthy. That day I was, and still am, willing to pay that price.”

“ _No!_ ” A rush of strength ran through Aranea as she screamed, pushing Ignis away and landing a successful hit to the side of his head. He cried out and staggered, holding that spot with one hand. “You _idiot!_ ” Like a wild coerl she ran circles around him, striking him from all angles before he could move to block her. There was no more holding back now. “You complete son of a _bitch!_ ” Whether it was the wind from her running so fast or the raw emotion spilling from her, tears clouded Aranea’s eyes. For her final attack she threw her staff to the floor and took a running leap forward, her knee knocking the wind out of Ignis as it collided with his stomach. He was hurled backward several feet before he landed on his back, his own staff clattering across the floor as he let it go and lay still. Aranea watched him closely, her heart hammering in her ears and her breath sharp in her chest. For what felt like an eternity he didn’t stir, but finally his head lolled to one side and he coughed hard, choking on his pain.

“I…can’t move,” Ignis croaked. He feebly lifted his arms and legs one after the other, but it got him nowhere. At least he could still feel them, Aranea thought idly in the back of her mind.

“Why?” She could feel herself shaking, hot tears covering her cheeks. “Six, how could you of all people be so _stupid?!_ ” Ignis opened his mouth to answer, but the attempt only started a new bout of coughing. Slowly he managed to roll onto his side, but he either didn’t or couldn’t sit up, still choking hard enough to turn his lungs inside out. Aranea wiped her face off with the back of one hand and went to him, kneeling down and scooping Ignis up to lean him against her. His breaths were ragged through his mouth and he winced in pain as she forced him to flex his abs to sit. He was otherwise motionless with his head resting against her upper arm and part of her chest, his knees bent with his heels against the floor. Aranea watched him like a hawk, her attention lingering perhaps too long on his scars again.

“I…hah…I’m…” Ignis’s attempt at speech was rewarded by yet more coughing. Aranea brought her free hand to the spot where her knee had hit him, pressing gently to check for breaks. She felt none, but Ignis grunted in pain between coughs and she withdrew.

“Sorry,” she breathed, placing her hand on his opposite shoulder instead to better keep him propped upright. The coughing had stopped, but Ignis was shivering in her arms, drawing his body in closer to his core. There was a new quality in the faint sounds of his voice that came out with his breaths and Aranea couldn’t quite place it, but it made her want to hold him even tighter. “Take your time,” she said lowly, her own voice evening out, “but you’re going to give me an answer.”

Ignis coughed once more before his voice came out, broken and hushed. “I had no choice. We were surrounded. Noct was unconscious and Ardyn…” He choked on his breath, tumbling into another bout of coughs and Aranea scoffed.

“Of course,” she said, adjusting her hold on Ignis so she could give him a couple of firm pats on the back. His breathing steadied and she relaxed some. “Bastard sure gets around.”

“He was…he was going to kill him,” Ignis breathed, his words more air than voice. “I had to do something.” He bared his teeth and sucked a breath in through them. “He’s an even greater monster than we’d ever imagined. My ordinary weapons weren’t enough. In that moment I could see only one course of action I could take to guarantee Noct’s safety. I accepted any and all consequences. If the Ring were to take my life, so be it if it allowed Noct to survive.” Aranea was silent for a moment as she let that answer sink in.

“What are you saying?” she asked. “His life is worth more than yours? What, just because he’s _royalty?!_ The ‘Chosen King,’ or whatever the legends say?!”

“No!” The outburst drew a few more weak coughs out of Ignis. “Of course not.”

“Then _what?_ ” Aranea demanded.

“He’s my friend,” said Ignis, tears sliding down his cheeks. Aranea could finally pin a name on the waver she had heard in his voice before as he started to shake in her arms again. “He’s my _brother._ And I’ve failed him.” Quiet sobs wracked him and Ignis turned his face in toward Aranea’s shoulder.

“But you just told me that what you did saved his life,” said Aranea, tilting her head down to keep her eyes on Ignis’s face.

“Yes,” said Ignis through the tears, “but it wasn’t enough. Even with the Ring’s enchantment, Ardyn brushed me aside like an insect. He only left Noct alive just to force him into the Crystal.” His tears were soaking into Aranea’s shirt and part of her marveled at the fact that he could still cry out of what remained of his left eye. “Once he emerges again, he’ll have to fulfill his destiny. He’ll have to…” Ignis’s words dissolved into loud sobs and he buried his face in Aranea’s shoulder, throwing an arm around her on the other side. Not sure what to do with herself, Aranea put both of her arms around Ignis and just sat there for a moment, waiting for a break in his cries.

“He’ll have to what?” she whispered, her face close to his ear. As much as she’d been constantly exposed to the legend of the Chosen King in the Cosmogony like anyone else, the old story was scant on the specifics of how the King was meant to destroy the Darkness. Being so close to Noctis, what had Ignis learned?

“He’ll…” Ignis began, sniffling loudly as he lifted his head. He coughed once more and took a moment to steady his breathing before completing the thought. “He’ll _die._ ” Once that was out he broke down again, his anguish muffled against Aranea’s shoulder.

Aranea gasped. “What?” She hugged Ignis tighter, an iciness settling in her chest.

Ignis sniffled again. “To banish the Darkness, a blood price must be paid. It will take all Noct has to restore our star and return the light to this world. It was ordained by the Crystal.” He sniffed with a hiccupping sound. “It’s not fair! If there was anything I could do to stop it, I would take that chance, even if it meant giving my own life instead.” He made a frustrated noise through his teeth. “Even with all my training, I still can’t see anymore. What other use am I to Noct like this?!” Aranea let him cry for a little while longer, rubbing one hand up and down between his shoulder blades.

“Ignis,” she said after he quieted, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” he mumbled into her shirt.

“Here,” said Aranea, letting him go and pushing gently on his shoulders until he was sitting up almost entirely on his own, his hand still resting against her arm. Once she got a good look at his face she grabbed him by his jaw and jerked him indelicately in her direction before he could articulate any confusion or protest. When she spoke again her voice was quiet, but firm as steel. “You listen to me right now and you listen good. Stop talking about throwing your life away. You think His Majesty the great Chosen King is the only person you matter to?! No!” Her vision blurred, but Aranea did nothing to stem her own tears as they began to flow again. “Other people rely on you, Ignis. Other people love you. What about Prompto and Gladio? You all need each other now. You can’t just push them away like you’ve been doing. If Noctis was your brother, then so are they and if you couldn’t see that, then you were blind before you ever put on the Ring.” Ignis gasped and his jaw dropped open as far as it could in Aranea’s grip. “I’m not finished!” Aranea sobbed, squeezing his face harder. “You’re right. None of this shit is fair, but here we are. The most we can do now is get each other through it because even though the old legends say what they say, nobody’s going it alone. Not you, not me, not even him.” It was her turn to sniff now as she reached up to wipe her eyes at long last, her voice rising as she continued. “And don’t you pull any more holier-than-thou speeches out of your ass at me! So what if I didn’t put my loyalty in writing?! So what if I deserted the Empire?! It saved your life, whatever the fuck that’s worth to you!” She let Ignis go as her sobs overtook her, never letting her eyes leave his face. “You’re killing yourself, Ignis, and there’s no way I’m going to just sit by and let you do that.”

“Aranea?” Ignis spoke her name at such a low whisper that she almost didn’t hear him through her crying. He brought his hands to her shoulders at first, sneaking them up one at a time until he was cupping her face and dragging a thumb through the stream of tears down one cheek. He made another strained, sad sound as his face contorted again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Both of them crying, they threw their arms around each other again without thought, Ignis’s apologies pouring out against the side of Aranea’s head as he held her against his chest.

“Shhhhh,” Aranea soothed, running her fingers gently through his hair. “Shhhhh.” Ignis went silent and the two of them sat still, Aranea working to control her breathing. She’d never been this close to Ignis before, but she felt no urge to move away or ask him to let go. As awkward as their positions were, she was comfortable.

“Iggy? Iggy!” Prompto’s voice startled Aranea and Ignis, both turning toward it. He was jogging in through the door, Gladio following behind. “Aranea, what happened? Are you guys okay?” He stopped a few paces away, staring at something. “Are you…crying?” Aranea hastily moved to wipe the tears off her face, but Ignis only turned himself more fully toward Prompto.

“Is Gladio nearby?” he asked.

“Right here,” said Gladio, stepping up behind Prompto. “What in the world happened?”

“A revelation,” said Ignis, his voice still wet with tears. “I owe both of you such an apology.” He started to stand, but winced as he moved every joint.

“Don’t move,” said Gladio, walking around Prompto to drop to one knee beside Ignis. “Looks like I was right about you working yourself too hard.”

“Yes,” Ignis grunted, gritting his teeth as he lay back onto the floor. “You were right about a great deal these past few weeks. As for me-” he raised a hand to touch his fingertips gently to the scars on his left- “I suppose I simply wasn’t able to see that.” Gladio stared at Ignis for a second before rolling his eyes at him with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“Hey,” Prompto said with a chuckle, “there’s our Iggy. Now come on, let’s head back before some jerk takes our room.” Again Ignis tried to get up, but this time he fell back to the floor with a high-pitched groan.

“Stop it,” said Gladio, resting a hand on Ignis’s shoulder. “Trying to get up and walk on your own is a bad idea.”

Ignis sighed with resignation. “You’re going to carry me, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” said Gladio, “but only because you put yourself here on your own.”

“Go ahead,” said Ignis. “I deserve it.”

“Oh please,” said Gladio. “It ain’t exactly fun for me, either, but it can’t be _that_ bad.” As gingerly as he probably could, he scooped Ignis up into his arms, quickly apologizing for every wince and gasp of pain his friend made as he was lifted.

Prompto’s eyes darted around the room. “Uh, Iggy? Where are your shirt and your shades?”

“Over by the equipment rack, I believe,” Ignis answered through his clenched jaw. Prompto scurried over there and retrieved both items, offering a hand to Aranea to help her to her feet.

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked her, keeping his voice quiet.

“Yeah, fine,” said Aranea, wiping the back of her hand against her cheeks again to dry them. Prompto’s flat expression and pursed lips got her to sigh. “Fine _now._ It was…pretty intense.”

“But you did it,” said Prompto with a smile that raised her spirits. “I knew you could.”

“From experience?” Aranea reached up and ruffled Prompto’s hair before he could stop her.

“Ah! Hey!” he protested, shrinking away from her reach. “Don’t mess up my hair! It’s gonna stick like that!” Aranea laughed, glad for the opportunity to do it again. As Prompto dragged his fingers through his hair to fix his damaged coiff, everyone turned and headed out the door and into the bright stadium lights surrounding the rest stop, all beyond them pitch black and echoing with the cries of distant daemons and the hum of gasoline-powered generators keeping the lights on. The hunters in the garage had all vanished, probably sometime long before, and there was little activity outdoors. Most had probably gone off on hunts, leaving Aranea and the boys virtually alone in the motel. Once they reached the room the boys had laid claim to, Gladio set Ignis down on his back on one of the two beds.

“Don’t you even think about getting up,” said Gladio, wagging a finger at Ignis likely out of habit.

“Of course not,” Ignis groaned. “The thought alone is too painful.” Gladio made a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh of relief as he walked over to the other bed and started to shed layers of clothing. Aranea averted her eyes, sitting down on Ignis’s bed with her back to everything.

“Dude!” Prompto snapped from somewhere over Aranea’s shoulder. “There is a lady present!”

“So what?” Gladio yawned, followed by a shuffling of linens. “I ain’t sleeping in my good pants.” Aranea clapped a hand over her mouth and tried her hardest to hold back a loud snort that threatened to betray her laughter. Prompto’s squeaky growl of frustration didn’t help.

“I’m going in the shower,” Prompto declared in a mumble, the bathroom door creaking as he closed it behind himself. In another couple of minutes the room was filled with a combination of the water running and Gladio starting to snore. Feeling it safe, Aranea turned herself around on the edge of the bed and began to think about returning to her ship for the night when Ignis spoke up beside her.

“Aranea?” His voice was soft, but not quite a whisper. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she replied just as quietly, resting her hand in Ignis’s where it lay open facing the ceiling. His fingers closed around hers gently and she felt no need to take her hand away, instead thinking about how warm his palm was and how calloused the skin of his hands had become from years in service to the Crown.

“I feel I must stress how deeply I regret my words to you today,” said Ignis, turning his head in her direction with only a slight wince. “I truly am sorry. I pray you can forgive me for it someday.”

“I can forgive you right now,” said Aranea, giving his hand a light squeeze. Ignis opened his mouth to speak more, but she reached over with her other hand to touch a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Don’t you dare put yourself down any more. You just rest for a good, long time.” She moved her hand back from his face and started to release his hand, but he held her there.

“Permit me one last thing,” he said. “There is something I would like to ask you.”

“Sure,” said Aranea, feeling less and less need to go anywhere after all.

“Why do you continue to help us?” Ignis’s question took Aranea by surprise and she was half glad that he couldn’t see the look on her face right then. “You were tricked into it at first, but every instance thereafter was entirely of your own volition. You had stated that you were planning to leave the Empire before then, but you could just as easily have taken a path that led you far from us, as well.” He tried to roll onto his side toward her, but gave up right away. “More to the point, why did you do what you did for me today? There was nothing to be gained from it where you’re concerned. Even Gladio gave up sooner that you did.” His right eye shifted down and then back up toward her again. “To use your own vernacular, what’s it to you?”

Aranea chuckled weakly, biting at her bottom lip before she answered. “Huh. I’ve never really thought that hard about it, if you can believe that. The simple answer is that I really wanted to stick it to the Empire and I just like you guys.” Ignis made a sound of his own that might be called a weak chuckle, though it came out as more of a cough.

“And the more complicated answer?”

“Hmm.” Aranea reached up again with her free hand to brush some of the hair out of Ignis’s face. “It’s tough to put into words.” It was _uncomfortable_ to put it into words, she meant. She hadn’t dared to before now, and on top of that she’d been pushing the thought from her mind longer and more vehemently than she’d ever realized. Why it had scared her so badly she didn’t entirely know, and the longer she sat there with Ignis prone on the bed next to her holding her hand, the less her fear made any sense. “Gladio, Shortcake and even King Pretty Boy are great, but you? Let me put it this way.” Aranea leaned her head down, hovering over Ignis’s face for a second before planting the softest kiss on his unsuspecting lips. “I think that sums it up pretty well.”

“Indeed,” said Ignis, the breathlessness of his voice catching Aranea off-guard. Before she could even think, Ignis lifted his head and arm up to hold her where she was and kiss her back with an enthused firmness that made her hum into Ignis’s lips. They held it there for a few seconds, until Ignis grunted and fell back against the bed in pain. “I do apologize,” he groaned, “but I’m afraid I’m in no state to continue.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Aranea with a smile as she scooted her legs up onto the bed. “You just rest. We’ve got a long time ahead of us.” With a light sigh she laid her head on Ignis’s chest, taking her hand from his to drape that arm over him. “Maybe you can brush your teeth first next time.”

“Please,” Ignis said through the laughter that hummed in Aranea’s ear, “have mercy on me, darling. I’m a wounded man.” Aranea giggled into the fabric of Ignis’s undershirt, half from his joke and half from what he had decided to call her. Fatigue from the day’s happenings weighed heavily on her and she relaxed against him, feeling his heartbeat slow along with hers. The last things she was aware of before drifting off to sleep were the sound of the shower finally shutting off and Ignis’s arm resting gently around her back, his hand on her hip.

**Author's Note:**

> Of all the writing I've posted in the last few years on various platforms, I think this piece is the one I'm most proud of. I certainly feel like I worked on it the hardest and polished it up to the very best of my ability. Just wish I was quicker.
> 
> Special thanks once again to ShyBunny for beta-reading and also for inspiring a little piece of Aranea's big speech near the end with her own words. They fit so well I just put them into the dialogue verbatim.


End file.
